There is Little in Life as Wondrous as Cheese

there, I've said it. These hot days often require your humble food writer to nosh on something cold and fast. Yes, there is always Greek yoghurt but what shall I nibble while I'm finding a bowl and spoon and all that jazz?

A hunk of cheese, that's what.

I've been known to bite hunks out of a block of cheese while on my way to the cutting board to make a dainty slice.

I have been known to eat a pinch of cream cheese while waiting on the bagel to toast.

I have never--to this day--met a cheese I didn't like. O, I love some more than others--double Gloucester, for instance--but I like cheese stinky and mild, crumbly and runny, baked in filo or microwaved on a triscuit.

Years ago, my cholesterol was a little high and the doctor noted it. I asked, somewhat innocently--would brie do that? She looked appalled. Do you eat brie? Why, yes, I said. Rather a lot. Yes, she allowed, looking at me over the top of her spectacles, brie would do that.

The glory, the wonder of cheese.